


Even When The Night Changes It Will Never Change Me And You

by isthisenoughorcanwegohigher



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: I Had To, I'm Sorry, and this was the most fitting thing i could think of, but i needed a title to post it here, i saw an avatar post that used a line in this and well, ignore the title it has NOTHING to do with this, mother who will stop your sinful hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher/pseuds/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher
Summary: “I thought you said you’d rather kiss me than die.”





	Even When The Night Changes It Will Never Change Me And You

Thomas knew. He knew the moment Newt froze in his grip that it was too late. That it had been too late, for a long time.

It had been too late when Newt refused to wait with Gally and take the serum.

It had been too late when Newt told Thomas. He knew he’d only found out because Newt had snapped at him, pinned him to the wall in a chokehold and yelled at him before coming back to his senses. He’d never have known otherwise, he was certain of that.

It had been too late when Thomas had let Newt and Frypan join him on this insane rescue mission.

It had probably been too late when they’d traveled the days with nothing but tattered sheets for shelter as they searched for a way to save Minho.

And, he realized with a growing fury that burned worse than the open wound on his chest from the very same knife now embedded in Newt’s heart, that it had probably been too late from the very moment they’d been rescued from the Maze, when WCKD had tricked them into believing they were safe.

No, Thomas wouldn’t be surprised if it had been too late from the moment Newt had set foot outside of the Maze. All of this–Minho taken, Newt dying, Chuck dead–all of it was WCKD’s fault. It stood to reason that Newt getting the Flare was their fault, too.

And he knew as he pulled away and saw the relief, the terror, the pain, the regret, all of the emotions Newt always tried to hide from him on display in a shocking and numbing mixture, the tears brimming in the dying–no, already dead–boy’s eyes, that it was too late to save Newt. Too late to save him, too late to let him know how he really felt, too late to fix anything.

One more promise broken. One more escape failed. One more friend dead because of him.

And as Thomas loosened his grip on the handle of the knife, as Newt’s grip went slack and his gaze landed on Thomas’s face, Thomas recalled a conversation that seemed like a lifetime ago.

A different person, a different place, a different world.

_“If I had to choose between freezing to death and kissing you just to stay warm,” Newt chuckled, rubbing his arms furiously in an attempt to generate some warmth, “I’d pick kissing you.”  
_

_Thomas laughed softly, his breath drifting out in front of him, just visible in the light of the stars. The others slept soundly, aside from the shivering, just out of earshot. “That’s a funny way of confessing your undying love for me.”_

_“Shut up, Greenie.” Newt edged closer, a teasing grin on his face despite the biting cold.  
_

_“You’re going to have to make m–” Thomas didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as Newt’s lips found his, seeking out the unfamiliar familiarity of the heat they provided._

Newt was swaying on the spot, his eyes clouding over as he stared at Thomas and Thomas stared back, all the unspoken truths dancing on the edge of his tongue, waiting for permission that would never come to tumble from his mouth and fall on deaf ears.

“Tommy,” Newt whispered, before he fell, and Thomas wasn’t sure if it was a choice to say it or if it was what came out as his final breath. He also didn’t care. He was on his knees in a moment, crouching over Newt, the pleas as silent as all the ‘I love you’s’ he’d never shared.

Too little, too late.

Driven by a deep primal instinct to save the person he loved, Thomas leaned down further and pressed his lips to Newt’s. To his amazement, a faint pressure answered his desperation.

Newt wasn’t gone yet.

But all too soon, the answering pressure of the kiss faded, and there was a final shudder through the body, a final exhale of everything left behind, and with a gust of fiery hot wind torn from a city at war, Newt was gone.

Thomas relented from the now one-sided kiss a second later, the tears starting to fall.

“I thought you said you’d rather kiss me than die,” he murmured, the words finally coming out, but his voice lost in the drone of gunfire.

Thomas pulled away from Newt’s body and looked up to meet Brenda’s desperate face.

_Too little, too late._

Thomas stared at Brenda a moment longer before he turned and reached for the gun he’d won from Newt.

He’d failed his friends too often. He’d failed Teresa twice now. He would not fail her a third time.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my good mutuals reblogged an ATLA post with the summary line and I'm sorry, okay,, ,,, ,


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